My Tragic Backstory. Warning: Graphic Content

Hello my donkeys, I’ve been extremely busy and I cannot reveal what had happened just yet!


“Mask” Photo by Jon Wallach 2013© CC BY-NC 2.0

Anyways, I’ve decided to share my backstory since you don’t know much about me. I guess I never really do any of these things since I’m too busy focusing on the present. Well, let’s start off with the simple facts. My mom, my dad, and me. My mom figured out after they had me, that my father was an ogre, and had a talent for disguising himself as a human for so long. He didn’t spare me the details of how he did it, but I took that over in order to be normal. I wasn’t normal up until 5th grade, when I shot up my classroom after taking so much bullying. I killed 17 children that day. I changed my name, practically erased myself from the world. Alan, my past name had gone away, and I turned into a girl, Alana. I had spent so many years on the design of the perfect girl; having a tight waist, average bust, round hips, and fair face. Asian, since it’s the most unexpected of them all. It was hard to manage when I was supposed to grow older, I guess I just never really aged significantly. I was on the hunt, I had been observing Justine, Kail, and Linhy individually up until they did the unexpected. They merged into one! It was high school, the best place ever. In 7th grade, I was presented with the sudden death of my father, he had hung himself and left a note saying that I was the reason why he killed himself. I was impacted greatly by this, my rage, mixed with guilt had brewed inside of me for a long time after that. He used to beat me, then drink, then beat me again, then drink, and drink, and drink. One day, he drank so much he didn’t know who I was. He called me an intruder and stabbed me in the leg. He then continued to beat me until I was bloody. But, I got past that. It was good that he killed himself, now I had all the time to myself. I could be myself. I was so ready for high school, I could bury myself in a book and no one will ever care. That’s what I thought. I made this blog, to vent my feelings of rage and hate into something where I could say it was fine. And it was. For a little while. During sophomore year, the second year of my blog, I fell in love with Tiffano, Pepe the frog. He was the most handsome, green creature I’d ever laid eyes on. It was love at first sight. The way he transformed, I put down my pen and pencil and stopped observing them for a while, struck in awe. They ran from me that year.

I continued to pursue Tiffano, but he only used that love against me and flirted with me as a distraction. I was broken. I flew back to earth with Justine that night, my heart shattered. They continued to hurt me with exposing my secret, I was Shrek. I don’t have one donkey, I have all of you. You’ve heard my story more than you’ve hear theirs… Who do you believe? Do you really think I’d do all those things to them. Going from a blogger to straight up murderer? Pshh… who do you think I am..?  They made all that up to hurt me.. for no reason! So who do you think is the innocent one? Me? Or those lying snakes that call themselves a family?

Well, that’s all my donkeys! Gotta fly!



Maybe. Just maybe, I thought. Maybe I would fix this once and for all. I was selfish, a selfish prick who thought he was special. Here’s a recap…



Photo by LucyJClarke 2012© CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

I left for my parents, my biological family. Alana had warned us before, about how she was becoming psycho rather than just some fangirl. A few days after she sent us that chilling Skype call and Linhy called the police, she sent us another one. Of my family. I could see the fear in their eyes as Alana held them hostage. I thought about it.

“We’re in this together,” said Linhy, the others also confirming. I felt myself trust that it would be okay. But I left alone that night.  I left for Lilac Valley, my old home. The small suburban town where we the only Asian family for miles. I took the car Alana had set up for “us”, well, I was the only one who used it. It was a long drive of anticipation and cold sweats, the nervous feelings building up inside me like a shaken soda can. My leg was constantly tapping, my heart was racing a million beat per minute, occasionally skipping since it was going to fast. The driver glanced at me every now and then in the mirror, his face smug. Oh God, did I ever feel like I needed my friends. They’ve always been right there, by my side, and I was right there next to theirs in their time of need.

“What will I do when I get there?” I thought frantically. “Will I break out some Jason Bourne or 007 moves and break out of there? Or will I just die with the rest of my family?”

It wasn’t like the first option, lemme tell you. I got there, a couple of henchmen grabbed me and put restraints around my wrists. Where did she even get these men? I still don’t know. They pushed me inside of my old home, the rest of the neighborhood was empty… And there they were, sitting captive on the couch next to each other, just like when I received the Skype call. Have they eaten? Are they okay? These thoughts were popping out of thin air, which contributed to all the more anxiety. She sat me down in front of them, they didn’t seem relieved to see me, more of worry. That made me even more nervous.

“Well, well, well,” Alana walked into the room, full school girl uniform. “If it isn’t the prestigious Kail.”

“Take off the disguise, everyone knows the ugly ogre that hides underneath those clothes,” I spat at her as she walks around my chair.

“It seems as if someone’s a little feisty today… Did someone hurt people you love? Oh wait… I did!” She cackled, a smile stretching from ear to ear, revealing her horrid teeth.

What happened after that… I don’t remember. It was almost like a flash of light, and I blacked out for the rest of the time, or she put me out. I woke up just recently, blood all over the floor, and the smell of it congesting my lungs. It smelled horrible. I was still in the chair, my arms untied, holding a hatchet of some sort. The hatchet was bloodied, and so were my hands. My heart began to race… What did I do? I looked up, my family had been mutilated, decapitated, chopped into pieces. Did I do this? I screamed, sobbed, burst into tears. I thought of killing myself, bringing the hatchet down on myself now. I looked around through the room through the constant flowing of tears, only to find a note written by her.

“You did not kill them, I did. I made it look like you did it. Make a blog post about your experience, or else I’ll give the police a big hint that you did it. After you make the blog post, tell everyone that I am innocent.”

Alana is not innocent. She is the one to blame for the murder of my family and many others. If there’s anyone who’s the real villain here, it’s her.

This may be the end.



As we continue this vigorous search of tracking down Alana, I can’t help but think that maybe this isn’t right. That maybe we should all return and go our different ways, forget about what’s happened. Move away, go back to our families. Maybe just allow Alana to kill every single one of us, one by one. How can we tell whether or not she’s watching me type this right now, we’ve moved hotels three times in the last 2 weeks, scraping dry my bank account that was meant for college. Using up Linhy’s saved money for the private university he was planning on going to, also. I see the light drain from our eyes everyday, the more we live, the less we enjoy being… alive.

We’ve gotten closer to her location, maybe if we stay in the same place for a long amount of time, she’ll just come to us. She’ll just come knocking on our doorstep with a bomb. She’ll plant it and press the button, killing other innocent people in the process.  It sounds like a lame James Bond movie, but it’s a possibility.

I don’t know what happened, we were so happy. Just a group of the oddest combination of people sitting in the cafeteria, sitting in the library, camping out on the moon, happy. It was… until… gosh.. I can’t even begin to describe the horrors of what I saw. The blood, the empty eyes staring back up at you sending a chilling whisper down your spine, as if their spirit, ghost, is right behind you, saying a last goodbye. It feels as if I lost something so dear to me, something that I loved with all my heart, multiplied by three other deaths. I was holding the hand of the dead, I already felt his hand turning cold by the time I woke up. Why didn’t I die? Why didn’t we all die? Why couldn’t I die?

A few days ago, I got an alert on my Skype. I immediately rushed to Tiffano’s and Linhy’s rooms to tell them once I knew who it was. We picked up the call, allowing her to share video. We didn’t turn on ours. My heart had dropped, it was racing faster than a car chase, a million horses. She said… we had 3 days to get back to Lilac Valley, where my old town was before we moved. There she showed my parents, my brother and sister, all held there. She giggled wickedly. It was either go back there, or she’ll put them on a plane, and see who lives the crash. She had arranged a car to drive me back. All we had to do was call a number she had given to us. I couldn’t process what was happening. It was as if it weren’t real, but this was real.

It was 5 am this morning when I left the hotel, checked out, and called the number. I’m writing this since we stopped for the night. I decided to leave Tiffano and Linhy and take this on my own, after all, this is my family. I’m sorry Tiffano, I’m sorry Linhy. I have nothing left to lose. This might be the end.

Locating Alana, Planning What’s Next

As we continue our search for Alana and locating her, we can’t help but mourn for our lost friends, our family. We loved each other, and I never realized how much I really cared for Justine until I knew she was gone. It feels like a void that may never be filled. What will happen after all of this? What can be done? Will I go to prison for the next twenty years? Or will I be executed? What about the rest of us? Will we all be ruled guilty? Maybe we’ll all end up in the same prison. Maybe we’ll all get to meet Justine, Brad, and Brandon again. I wish that our time together weren’t nearing the end. I itch for time to blog, and long for this prolonged hopelessness and sadness to end. I can only assume that it’s the same for Linhy and the others. I guess it’s time for me to go… Until next time, if there is a next time. 

Finding Peace

As I search for Alana, feeling angry at myself for doing those things that cannot be moral, I find myself starting to forgive, but not forget. Because, if I allow myself to continue this path of rage, I will be just as bad as her. I’d be the jury and the judge in a trial that only exists inside of my anger. I think that blogging my thoughts has really helped me with


Photo by Moyan Brenn ©2012 CC BY 2.0

everything that’s happened. I can’t help but feel trapped when I’m forced to say my feelings out loud, writing or typing things are less judgmental than real people. I don’t understand why I was picked for this path in life, hell, I can’t imagine what I did that was so dreadful so that God would pick this path for me. Killing off the people I care most about, making my heart feel this way–the feeling of rejecting your true feelings over and over again because at the time it seemed like the worse possible thing that could happen to you. But it didn’t just happen to you, you soon realize. You were born to feel this way, to love this way, and started to feel self-accepted first. Yet, God had blessed you with homophobic parents with dreams of you bringing home a woman and having grandchildren. They said that directly to me in front of my boyfriend, my boyfriend whom I brought home to them to meet and accept.


Photo by Prachatai ©2014 CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

I type this in a computer lab in a small city not far from the crash site. The rest who lived were still mourning in a hotel room, sitting in silence, I assume. I thought the same way, just sitting around until I finally die, but instead I decided to get up and write. Not for the fame, not for the views, but for myself. I’m not sure of how much more I can take, it’s been over 3 years since this all started, non-stop adrenaline pumping. The adrenaline barely makes an impact anymore, it just feels numb, dull, as if there’s a screen and I can only feel what pushes the screen, nothing more. I wish to bring justice to those who we lost, Brad, Tiffano, and Justine… But I do not wish to murder her just for my selfish reason of revenge. I don’t want to murder her at all. I want to turn her to the justice system, and then whatever happens to her from then on is no longer my problem. No longer our problem. I’ll find a way, soon.

This is no longer a crazy blogger. She is a murderer.

I was fine with Alana, I thought she was just a person who was obsessed with the typical high school gang. If it weren’t for her, I probably would’ve never met Brad, Brandon, Alex, and so many more people who I created such close bonds with. But all that changed. She is no longer just a crazy blogger with an obsession. She’s a murderer, a stalker, a terrorist.

Brad was one of us. He didn’t talk much, or do anything really significant in the short amount of time that I knew him, but he was really one of us. We all shared the same laughs, the same tiffs, the same problems. That day was a short one, we were on our way to Thailand on Justine’s private jet. We, the gang, were headed on our way there to live happy lives in peace. The world did not deserve Brad, he was a good person…too good for this world.

It was terrifying to know that you were going to die. To know that in the back of your mind, that not everyone in your friend group were going to survive that day. The plane was shaking violently, brad and I were sitting next to each other when it was going down. His face was the last one I saw before it went down and I blacked out. I squeezed his hand as hard as I could, telling him


Photo by Miikka H 2010© CC BY-SA 2.0

that we’ll both make it out alive, telling him that it’ll all be okay. I didn’t even get to see who else was around me, it was only me focusing on his face. His face was sheer terror and worry, which broke my heart. Either I die, he dies, or we both die.

I shut my eyes so tightly that I don’t remember what happened before the plane hit the ground. But when I opened them, my heart shattered in a million pieces. The sight…. The sight I saw when I opened them, Brad’s grip was no longer there. I immediately checked for his heartbeat, for his breath. Nothing. He looked peaceful, his eyes closed softly. I got up, checked for others, hoping, hoping so hard that someone else would be alive. I yelled, screamed, sobbed so loudly, I had lost the people I held dear to me. I lost my family, rejecting me because I was gay. These were the only people left. Linhy, Alex, and Tiffano put a hand on my shoulder, and we stayed there for a moment. We lost Justine. We lost Brandon. We lost Brad. But no one has seen Alana yet, surely she had survived.


Photo by Play Your Place 2013© CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

I was mourning, my family was broken. Why would she want to kill her best subjects? The only reason why her fame exists? I can’t possibly understand why… I’m angry, angry at the fact she has killed them, they would all have been alive if not for her. We would live happy, free lives out of her hair. We would be neighbors, we would live next to each other just like we planned. Exactly like we planned. We were so close, yet so far. I was angry, we all were. Blinded by rage, we all understood what we had to do. It was fine with the crazy rumors, even if it seemed like the worst thing in the world at the time. But nothing could compare to this.

She took our reputations, she took our homes, she took our families, she took some of our lives. What have we done to deserve such punishment, I asked myself. Just wondering, trying to understand why all of us, had deserved such pain and suffering inflicted so early in our lives. Forgive me, for this will weigh heavy on my conscience and my soul, but Alana will pay for the lives of our friends, of our family. I will not lose anymore of those who I hold dear to me, those who accept me for who I truly am. Alana will pay. This is war.


Photo by Moyan Brenn 2012© CC BY 2.0


Hello! Good Gossip Here!

Hey, EVERYONE! It’s me, Kail. Yes, I’m the one you’ve heard about. Anyways, I’ve got the whole gang here with me, we’ve escaped the dreaded Alana, she had found our bomb shelter on the moon. We did our best to manage, but it was a close call. She almost caught us! Who knows what she was going to do once she caught us. Here’s what happened. We were just chilling, you know, hanging out in our hideout, when we hear a rocket ship land. We thought maybe it was ONLY Justine, but WE WERE DEAD WRONG. Luckily, we had a plan. Tiffano eats a Cheez-It and distracts Alana. Linhy, leads us all to the rocket ship, and figures out how to drives the thing, and I just stare dreamily…dreamily at Linhy….I’M NOT GAY… Back to my point, We all boarded, Tiffano getting out at the last second. Linhy heads straight for Earth. We were just about ready to go when, I saw one last jaw-dropping thing… ALANA IS SHREK. E-X-P-O-S-E-D.


Welcome to the “Fake Implant”‘s blog. This blog is based off of Alana’s blog in the short story, “Fake Implants” written by Kaitlinh Pham, Kaili Ker, Justin Koan, aalana-blog-1-post-feature-imagend Alan Nguyen. You can read the original story here.  This story was a collective narrative made by four different people, hence the different fonts. This story has three different parts. Part 2 was written by Tiffany Lai, Kaili Ker, and Kaitlinh Pham. Part 3 was written by Kaili Ker and Kaitlinh Pham. You can read Part 2 and Part 3 down below:

Part 2

Part 3 (Part 3 mini game! Guess the perspectives based off of what you know about the character! Then comment below!) 

Enjoy reading!